


Intrusive

by RunningOnEmpty



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 15:52:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2738228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningOnEmpty/pseuds/RunningOnEmpty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Karkat is recovering from an old nightmare when some windy asshole decides to pester him.  However things become emotional for both of them when John insists on coming over to find out what's wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Intrusive

The nightmares were back.

The only sound in the room was the troll’s sputtering wheezes as he desperately wiped his hands on his shirt.  Still shaking with fear, Karkat looked down at his grey hands.  He turned them over and made the mistake of blinking.  The colors from his dream overlaid once more; skin was stained with the spectrum that he rebelled against all his life.  The wheezing morphed into a dry sob as he tried to wipe the colors away once more.

_It’s all my fault._

Memories whispered in his ear, taunting his every move.  He knew the voices weren’t real, but that didn’t make them any less painful.  All the negative remarks he had received over the years slammed into him.  The troll’s forehead throbbed as he tried to ignore the phrases they chanted.

_I’m the reason they’re dead._

A tone from his husktop broke the spell.  Someone had the nerve to message him.  He was on the edge of a fucking meltdown and some asshole was trying to bother him.  With a hateful snarl, he smashed his fingers down on the keys and pushed the screen away.  The computer’s response was to belt out another tone.  Whoever this was, they didn’t know how to take a hint.

Karkat pulled himself closer as blue text cut through the pink haze of unshed tears.

\--  ectoBiologist [EB] began pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] \--

EB: karkat!  
CG: KLSBDSWOJFT  
EB: ????  
EB: is that some kind of acronym?  
EB: karkat looks stressed by distressing situations while omitting john from them.  
EB: oh man that has to be it.  
EB: i’m totally right aren’t I?

Karkat’s gut was screaming at him to just sign off and leave this moron to his annoying antics, but his fingers rebelled against him.

CG: FUCK OFF EGBERT.  
CG: I JUST SMASHED MY FINGERS ON THE KEYS WHEN I PUSHED MY HUSKTOP AWAY.  
CG: YET SOME HOW YOU MANAGED TO MAKE A FUCKING JOKE OUT OF MY OUTBURST.  
CG: WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU BEING ALL OBNOXIOUS AND SILLY AT THIS TIME OF NGIHT.  
CG: FCUK.

The unshed tears blurred the grey text from sight.  A gross choking noise escaped as his throat tightened.  His hands tried to sooth his neck muscles to breathe, but it didn’t help.  He was drowning in emotions.  The immense guilt that pressed down on him since he woke was barely manageable, but John had caused a tidal wave of shame to crash over him.  He hadn’t seen John crack once under any pressure; Karkat could barely keep himself together after a nightmare.  There were grubs who could handle this better than him.  The troll wiped his eyes and tried to compose himself as the husktop continued sound off John’s every reply.

EB: huh?  
EB: but i always make jokes about things you say.  
EB: woah you’re spelling things wrong.  
EB: is everything okay? :(  
CG: FUCK OFF.  
EB: hmm..  
EB: can i get a hint?  
CG: SURE.   
CG: FUCK OFF YOU INCONSIDERATE SHIT.  
EB: okay, you kind of need to tell me what’s wrong!   
CG: THERE IS NOT A SINGLE THING TO TELL YOU.  
CG: DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  
CG: BECAUSE NOTHING IS FUCKING WRONG YOU OVERSEASONED MEATSACK.  
EB: wow.   
EB: but we’re buddies aren’t we?   
EB: friends tell each other when something is up.  
EB: and i can’t help if i don’t know what’s going on.  
EB: ...  
EB: ...karkat?

The troll was in turmoil once again.  Part of him wanted to throw his husktop across the room and pretend to hold himself together.  There was no way he was going to just spew out all his problems just because John was his friend; they were his problems, not John’s.  However, another part was begging to just tell John everything.  Let his friend bring him back to the surface and give him a reason to believe he was worth caring about.  Exhaustion left him unable to do either.

_I can’t even be a good friend._

Karkat looked down at his hands once more, studying how the colors of his nightmares blended together.  His fuchsia fingertips sprinkled into his gold and bronze knuckles like a sunset.  However the sunset faded into the ugly bruises on his palms. Indigo and olive had mixed into an ugly dark teal while the jade and violet splotches simply streaked over each other.  His stomach lurched as images of his friends swam in the colors.

_I was too late._

Karkat frowned as his body began to shiver; chills weren’t part of the routine.  It felt as if he left a window open, but his block had none.  The door and the air vent were both closed as well.  Another shiver pulsed through him as he struggled to make sense of the sudden dip in temperature.  Pulling his knees to his chest, the troll glanced at his husktop as if it held the answer to his question.

Surprisingly enough, it did.

EB: you’re starting to make me worried karkat. :(  
EB: if this is some kind of trolling it’s not funny.  
EB: ...  
EB: if you don’t answer me I will so come over there.

\--  ectoBiologist [EB] has ceased pestering carcinoGeneticist [CG] –-

The soft tap of shoes on the floor proved that his screen hadn’t lied to him.  Kakart didn’t bother with acknowledging the newcomers presence.  He instead buried his face into his knees to hide his tear stained cheeks.  He could hear the frown on his friends face from the soft muttering that filled the silence.  After a few moments, he felt soft fabric brush his arm.  The boy had quietly sat down next to him before saying anything.

“I’m not facing towards you Karkat, so don’t worry about what you look like.  I just want to talk.”

The words were soft, gentle, and something else he couldn’t quite describe.  It wasn’t the pity or disappointment he had been expecting.  Karkat carefully turned to make sure his friend wasn’t lying without giving himself away.  The bright blue fabric on his friends back was enough to convince him to lift his head up.

“Get the fuck out of my block you intruding dunderfuck.” The comment was meant to be threatening, but only managed to exit as an exhausted sigh.   His throat was still tight, making it too painful to sound angry. “I mean it John.”  Silence fell between the two until Karkat lowered his head with a defeated grumble.  Chapped lips threatened to split as the troll relapsed on his nervous habits.  Kanaya had offered him some of her lipsticks to help stop the biting, but the troll had always turned her down.  His tongue was soon reunited with a metallic taste that sent his stomach lurching.

“Is it nightmares?”  The question brought back the troll’s attention.  He was being read like a book by a boy who wasn’t even looking at him.  Karkat crinkled his nose in frustration. 

“Yeah.”  He answered quietly, seeing no point in beating around the bush.  There was a pause before he heard John let out a small sigh.

“Man, nightmares suck.”  Karkat lifted his head up slightly, brow furrowed in confusion.  John’s voice sounded heavier than before, not the light and worried tone he had entered with.  Another silence fell between them as John adjusted his glasses.

“What the fuck do you know about nightmares?”  The question was bitter and full of anger.  There was no way that boy could have had a bad dream with his happy disposition.  Everything he said and did was upbeat and sincere.  It just didn’t make sense unless-

_You don’t even remember what your friends tell you._

The sad smile on John’s face had Karkat fighting back tears once more.  He had forgotten like the selfish asshole he was; too busy drowning in his own troubles to bother remembering anyone else’s.

“John I-” A hand on his shoulder stopped the apology in its tracks.

“It’s okay Karkat.  I forget about it too when I’m lucky.”  John began to play with the tail of his hood, his fingers shaking as they gripped the fabric.  The silence pressed at Karkat to say something, but no words came.  He instead found himself leaning against the trembling boy. 

“I searched and searched and searched for him you know.”  John mumbled, growing softer as he buried his face in the fabric.  “If I had just gotten there faster or not goofed off so much then maybe I could have actually stopped it.  Maybe even saved Rose’s mom too.”

The shaky sigh that entered the air seemed to press down on both of their shoulders like a melancholy ghost.  Karkat listened to John shuffle quietly beside him, probably uncomfortable with how vulnerable the growing silence made him seem.  He turned his head towards the boy, studying him and how well he dealt with it.  While his body stopped shifting, his hands continued to scramble for more fabric to fiddle with.  The fingers froze momentarily before shifting into white knuckled fists.

“You know, I never got to thank him for my birthday cake that year.  I was too worried about getting this stupid game.”  Karkat winced at the hitch in John’s voice.  He even felt the pressure of the boy’s words on his bloodpusher.  He could tolerate his own memories being toxic, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let John’s memories be tainted by regret.  The flash of anger brought him the courage to speak.

“Of course he knew.”

“Huh?”  The boy turned towards him carefully, not sure whether it was okay to look.  Those blue eyes of his swirled with the coming tears, but a quick swipe of John’s hand prevented them from spilling down his cheek.  Pity swelled in the troll’s chest.  John had come here to comfort  _him_  but now he was almost in tears himself.  Guilt quickly replaced the feeling as he realized his own words started those waterworks.

John didn’t cry.  Not at the sight of his Dad’s corpse or any of multiple deaths of his friends and their dream selves.  In the few years they’d survived, John had seen more destruction than anyone should have in an entire lifetime and not shed a tear.  Now here was that same boy, almost crying over not telling his dad thank you all that time ago.  Karkat felt his palms prick with pain as he clenched his fists.  Words began to pour from his shout sphincter with a newfound determination.

“If there’s one thing I learned from watching all your timelines, it’s that your lus- I mean dad, knew that you appreciated it.  Even with all the disgusted faces you made at the cakes, you still ate them every year before that so he made you another two or twenty.  So many hours were spent in that study room mastering the piano and look at your skill now. Anyone with hearing ducts will be able to tell you that you’re phenomenal at it.  Let’s not forget that you would help him bake those cakes on multiple occasions even with your so called hatred for Betty Crocker and her nefarious recipes. He was a pranking master John; the rebellious teenager façade wouldn't fool someone of that stature.  You were just caught up in being a kid. Fuck, you  _were_  just a kid. Not to mention-”

“My dad made cakes at least twice a week Karkat, it wasn’t anything special.”  John cut in as he fiddled with his shoes.  Karkat fumed at the poor attempt to derail his rant.

“No, don’t interrupt me because that’s bullshit John. Everything he did was for you. It was your wriggling day and if there’s anything that he piti- fuck, that’s not the right word,” Karkat chewed on his lip as he mentally went through his vocabulary.  Of course the one time he was actually trying to comfort someone he was fumbling for words.  “-anything that he  _loved_  more than baking, pranks, hell even his pipe collection, it was you.  No amount of bullshit is going to convince me otherwise because again, I saw everything.  I watched you grow up John and your Dad was fucking proud.  So don’t you fucking taint his memory by making bitter grief-ridden assumptions based on your own regret because, believe me, that shit is a hard spill to clean up.”

John tried to stay silent, but his nose gave him away.  The sound of sniveling was pathetic no matter how quiet it was.  Acting more on instinct than anything else, Karkat pulled the boy towards him.  Without any hesitation John’s face was buried in his friend’s shoulder with a broken sob.  Any muffled apologies that managed to reach Karkat’s ears were promptly ignored.  John would have to bring more than a snot fountain to break this hug.

They stayed like that for a while; the troll carefully resting his chin on the boy’s shoulder while the other’s face remained buried in the shirt folds.  John had stopped shaking and was now breathing steadily minus a few hiccups.  Karkat dully noted while the hug had been incredibly cold at first, it was now unnoticeable.  Enough time had passed that any extra heat, or lack of heat in John’s case, had transferred equally between them. 

Slowly, Karkat peeled his friend away from his shirt which was most likely slathered with nose gunk.  As comforting as the hug was, they couldn’t stay like this forever.  Especially with the lack of sleep beginning to throb in the front of the troll’s head.  John’s eyes were now red and puffy along with his nose, but he kept looking down at his hands.

“Oh geez, I’m really sorry Karkat.  I-” John’s voice caught in his throat, but he recovered quickly with a loud sniff.  “Shit, I came all the way here to comfort you and all I’ve done is booger your shirt.”  A weak laugh left his lips.  The troll simply shook his head.

“No, it’s okay and no apologizing. Especially since that was pretty fucking close to what you walked in on anyway.”  Karkat blinked slowly as his lids grew heavy once again.  If John left now, he may have a chance of still getting few hours of rest in.

“That doesn’t make it okay, but whatever I guess,” John glanced around for something to use as a tissue without any luck.  His barren block lacked any sort of support for the pathetic eye leaking activities he had been trying to break himself of.  Eventually, the boy regretfully settled on cleaning himself up with his excessive hood before looking back at the troll.  “You still haven’t told me what is giving you such awful nightmares.”

Karkat tensed.  He had hoped that the snotfest would have embarrassed the boy enough to leave his nightmares alone.  Clearly this was not the case.

“You’ve been a good enough distraction that I actually feel tired.  Talking about it now sure as hell won’t help my sleep cycle.” 

“I guess, but talking about it tonight could make sleeping easier tomorrow.  Besides, what kind of friend would I be to come all the way here and not help you out?”  A small smile flickered on John’s face.  Any hope that the boy would leave him alone for the night was crushed by the genuine concern on his face.

“Silly banter doesn’t make me want to talk to you about anything John.”  The troll huffed in return.  A hard stare accompanied it as annoyance flared in his chest.  He wasn’t about to become a nightmare ridden damsel in distress to boost the boy’s ego.   

“Right, sorry; it’s all I’m really good at.”  John’s attempt to laugh it off fell short and rang with nervous energy instead. Karkat’s annoyance fell away as John cleaned his glasses on the bottom of his shirt.  One large smudge over the entire lens now replaced the small ones that had bordered the bottom edge.  The boy squinted slightly before shrugging.

“My fucking hero.”  He grumbled before patting the spot next to him.  There was no way he was going to be able to explain anything with that numbskull squinting directly at him the entire time.  John obediently scooted over beside the troll and waited.  Silence enveloped the room once more as Karkat steeled himself for the retelling.

“I, don’t really remember the dreams.  It’s mainly voices,” The troll took a shaky breath as the words began to stick in his throat.  Karkat knew he had to spit it out now or John would be here all night waiting.  “Just the standard ‘look at this piece of trash’ mentality I have towards you guys, yet somehow it hits me with a pail of ice water; which is a lot more than any of the insults I fling at every one. The worst part is that I usually see all their blood colors on my hands and no matter what I do it never comes off.  It just sits there and taunts me like I’m a fucking animal who should take pride in those deaths. I mean technically trolls are supposed to revel in the blood of their enemies and victories staining everything, but I would never want that for my friends.  Sometimes the colors linger even after I wake up.”

“Like blood on your hands?  Isn’t that always a metaphor for guilt?  Karkat are you saying you actually feel responsible for what happened to your friends all that time ago?” John frowned, turning towards him. The troll looked away, not bothering to dignify the question with a response.

“I was so worried about trying to prove my worth as a leader; to trying and keep everyone working together or at least off of each other’s throats, but everything managed to go to shit anyway.  If I could have just been better at  _anything_ , maybe none of this would have happened.”  He rubbed his hands roughly and winced as his claws caught on the dry skin, leaving streaks of red in their wake.  John turned to face the troll with a confused frown on his face.

“But you were a great leader.  If it wasn’t for us and all our game breaking shenanigans, you guys would have won your session.  I mean technically you did since we were created!  Wasn’t that the point of your giant ‘greetings John human this is your god speaking’ when we first met?”

“Irrelevant.  That doesn’t change the fact I had to watch my friends die because I didn’t do anything.”

“Karkat you can’t control people.  No matter how good of a leader someone is, they can’t make decisions for other people.”

“But your friends all listen to what you say.”  The troll grumbled towards the floor.  John clenched his fists at the notion.

“Ugh, this again! Listen Karkat I was not their leader, I was their friend.  I didn’t tell them what to do or how to act.  We worked as a team and figured things out together, yet somehow everyone keep telling me I’m some heroic hero.  The only thing I thought was maybe slightly heroic was when I tried to fight Jack after finding my dad but I didn’t even get a chance to do anything before I got stabbed.  I’m no hero because I would be dead for real if that was the case.”

“John-” Karkat jolted back as a cold finger hit his lips.

“Stop right there and look at me mister.  It’s your turn to shut up.  I am not their leader.  It’s a fact, not an insecurity.  I’m optimistic and try to keep people from giving up sure, but that’s just who I am.  I don’t see the point in just waiting around for things to happen and so all I did was keep the train moving.  I do what people tell me to do and it works.  The only reason I managed to enter the medium before getting creamed by a meteor was because Rose walked me through everything. The only reason I made it to god tier this fast was because of Vriska, who didn't bother to even tell me the details of what I was doing.  I didn't plan anything.  You on the other hand made things happen.  You got your friends through this hell hole of a game in one piece and the only reason you all fell apart was because we ripped the victory from you.  You made the plan that helped us scratch our session, you helped guide us through everything with your angry long winded advice.  It was you Karkat and I would so listen to your plans any day over mine.”

Karkat was speechless for once and not just because John’s finger was still pressed against his lips.  Karkat looked away first, unable to meet the intensity burning behind those blue eyes.  There was not a single doubt that John had meant every word of his speech, but that didn’t make it any easier to wrap his own head around.  After a few moments of silence, the finger left Karkat’s lips but the piercing gaze remained.  The troll tucked his head back into the familiar curves of his knees in an attempt to escape.

   From the sounds of it John had returned to harshly fiddling with the fabric of his hood; apparently pulling the blue threads was therapeutic.  Fortunately, he had always been a short fuse.  As quickly as he had gotten worked up, it wouldn’t be long before he leveled back out again.  The troll had heard many stories about John’s misplaced anger.  He just hoped that the blue hood was strong enough to withstand the pressure from the white knuckled hands pulling at them. Soon enough, the frustration radiating off of John diminished to a heavy sigh.  A cold finger prodded Karkat’s shoulder lightly.

“Are you seriously not going to say anything?  After all that work I don’t even get a gold star for trying?” 

“No.”  He grunted, lifting his head enough to rest on his knees.

“Dude.  I thought it was a pretty inspiring pep talk.  Or at least it felt like one.”  John huffed his annoyance before tossing the tail of his hood at the troll.  It draped over one horn before falling directly into his face, much to John’s delight.  Karkat pushed the hood up enough to send a glare back.

“It was so exceptionally inspirational I might just have to give you an entire page of gold stars you boastful dickmunch.  Now stop looking at me with that shit eating grin.” John did no such thing and instead leaned closer to show off his pearly overbite.  Karkat muttered a few choice words under his breath before shaking his head.   As much as the troll hated to admit it, he was glad for the shift in mood.  The insults spilled easily now with his familiar sarcastic venom.  The normality of it was comforting.

“I’ll have you know I have not eaten a single piece of shit in my life.”  John snickered at his own joke until he found himself with a face full of fabric.  Karkat couldn’t keep himself from smirking as he listened to the muffled shouts protesting his decision to hold the hood in place.  Even being one of the weaker trolls, he still overpowered John easily.  The boy was wiry and built for speed, not for overpowering fabric smothering assailants.  After another few minutes of struggling, John finally gave up and crossed his arms.  The troll took that as his cue to remove his hands and unveil the angry pout that was hidden beneath the fabric.

“Are you quite finished with your silly shenanigans John?”

“Only because I forgot you graduated at the top of your class in fun sucking school.”

"You bet your ass I did.”                 

Karkat turned away with a huff, but it was more for show than actual annoyance.  The two sat there in a much more comfortable silence this time as they drifted between their thoughts and sleep.  John had taken to humming a soft tune to stay awake until a small horn praised him with a jab to the throat.  The troll had finally dozed off and gravity had taken care of the rest.  With a chuckle, he nudged Karkat, who woke with a start.  John noted that Karkat’s teeth looked much more threatening now than whenever he was angry.  The mouth daggers were sheathed quickly as he had blinked away his sleepy haze.

“Well, I guess I should probably get going so you can start catching up with your bed. In fact, I have a few things to say to mine too.”  John barely managed to stifle the yawn as he spoke.  The troll nodded as he tried to blink away his sleepy haze.  The boy slowly stood back up and helped his friend follow suit.  However just as John turned to leave some claws tugged his sleeve, turning him back. 

“Thanks John.” It was barely audible, but Karkat was sure the boy heard it all the same.

"What are friends for?”  John smiled, giving the troll’s shoulder a light pat.  The he slowly nodded, lips mirroring a smaller and more subtle upward curve.

And with a gust of air he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this sometime early last year after thinking about the fact that John has never actually talked to anyone about losing his dad (besides missing him) and from there it just spiraled out of control. Purposely tried it from tipping the shipping scale a certain direction so that way people can choose what they want whether it be flushed, pale, or just guys being dudes.


End file.
